The Brutalist, 2024.
Directed by Brady Corbet.
Starring Adrien Brody, Felicity Jones, Guy Pearce, Joe Alwyn, Raffey Cassidy, Stacy Martin, Emma Laird, Isaach de Bankolé, Alessandro Nivola, Benett Vilmányi, Michael Epp, Jonathan Hyde, Peter Polycarpou, Salvatore Sansone, Ariane Labed, and Matt Devere.
SYNOPSIS:
Fleeing from post-war Europe in 1947, a visionary architect and his wife settle in Pennsylvania where a wealthy and mysterious client changes their lives forever.
Screened in 35mm and presented in VistaVision, co-writer/director Brady Corbet’s The Brutalist is as uncompromising as the fictional Hungarian Jewish architect at its center. Running just over three and a half hours without a wasted or dull moment (which includes an intermission), the fact that this film, which chronicles the trauma and relentless hardships that go into László Tóth’s (a galvanizing performance from Adrien Brody in a movie jampacked with them) ambitious construction of a community center in Doylestown, Pennsylvania, exists in 2024 comes across as a grand metaphor for all forms of stifled artistry.
Commissioned by tycoon Harrison Lee Van Buren Sr. (a chilly, ruthless Guy Pearce channeling a younger Vince McMahon, both in speaking form and the ability to put up a generous and supportive front, masking more unsavory qualities such as greed and narcissism) to construct that building, what starts as the American Dream in part one quickly descends into an American Nightmare once part two begins.
It can’t be stressed enough that the intermission shouldn’t be skipped, even when this film is available physically or through streaming. It’s perfectly placed between a passage of time while also functioning as an unmistakable marker for the suffering that will come with joy. The intermission also allows ample time to reflect, digest, and prepare for the inevitable directing devastations of the immigrant experience when all that is good is essentially in the hands of wealthy white businessmen.
Playing out in the background is a burning love story as László, his wife Erzsébet (Felicity Jones, in some ways providing the beating heart of the story through letters read aloud in her voice, and the driving force behind her husband’s actions, with him determined to one day reunite on the back of his labor and success), and mute niece Zsofia (Raffey Cassidy, effectively communicating what she thinks through silence, stares, and mood) were forcibly separated during World War II, with the latter stuck in Europe and desperately trying to make their way to America. Naturally, once László makes a name for himself and enters this elite circle, such a goal becomes much more realistic.
Also present is a cousin (Alessandro Nivola) who initially gets László up and running in America with a place to stay in his storage unit. Elsewhere, Harrison Lee Van Buren Sr. has a son, Harry (Joe Alwyn), who is shady and actively undermines László’s work at every turn, bringing in additional architects to make some changes and cut some financial corners. The problem is that these changes are of deeply personal creative value to László.
Whether or not there is a family reunion is something I will keep a surprise, but it’s worth mentioning again that Felicity Jones has a substantial role here concerning László’s compulsive obsession with his work and his evolving perception of this American Dream. He is a man aware that foreign people, unfortunately, generally aren’t wanted and that they would discard him or treat him as poorly as other marginalized groups such as Black people. During his poor days, László pays it forward and befriends a homeless Black father (Isaach De Bankolé) struggling to feed his young son, eventually coming to give that man work on his architectural projects.
The above is a good chunk of what part one entails, with a teaser of what part two has in store. However, it’s important to note that Brady Corbet and Mona Fastvold’s screenplay is charged in the sense that one is left hanging on every word, whether it’s an “intellectually stimulating” conversation on architecture, race, Judaism, power, egotism, or family dynamics. At one point, Harrison tells a cold, bordering on heartless story about his in-laws, which also effectively sums up much of what he is about as a person. The Brutalist is filled with lengthy, compelling, telling scenes about these characters such as these.
Staggering photography from Lol Crawley and a mixture of ominous and romantic music from Daniel Blumberg also transfix. There is the architecture itself (which comes to be informed by László’s life, breathtaking aerial shots of mountains, and an all-around extreme amount of methodical consideration put into the framing of each shot. Every image of The Brutalist gives off the vibe of watching a major event. The story isn’t far behind, although one can’t help but feel a couple of areas and characters get shortchanged even with the gargantuan running time. Without spoiling it, there is an aspect of the messaging during the ending that also feels off, especially for a film that is three and a half hours long. Nevertheless, every minute is worth your time; this brilliant, uncompromising filmmaking puts one in a vice grip from the overture.
Flickering Myth Rating – Film: ★ ★ ★ ★ / Movie: ★ ★ ★ ★
Robert Kojder is a member of the Chicago Film Critics Association and the Critics Choice Association. He is also the Flickering Myth Reviews Editor. Check here for new reviews, follow my Twitter or Letterboxd, or email me at MetalGearSolid719@gmail.com
